


Rainy Days and Leaves

by amomentoflove



Series: Coffee Shop AU [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Barista Louis, Coffee Shops, Fluff, Frat Boy Niall, Halloween, M/M, slight domestic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amomentoflove/pseuds/amomentoflove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis works at a coffee shop and spells Harry's name wrong on his cups.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Days and Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> October means fall, pumpkin spice flavored everything, Halloween, and worse of all, midterms. I wrote this as a form of procrastination. 
> 
> Enjoy! [tumblr](http://www.daggerandrose.tumblr.com)

London is being its usual cold and rainy self one fall Friday Harry Styles’ backpack is heavy with books and notebooks, and his mind is scattered with the list of things he has to do before the weekend is over. Going back to his flat is a definite no if he wants to get anything done. Roger, his roommate, has a habit of blasting rap music out of his speakers that Harry is ninety-nine point nine percent sure were made for surround sound T.V. and not for music. He can’t go to Liam and Zayn’s flat, Liam’s having a cleaning spree to get it ready for the Halloween party on Saturday. Niall lives in the fraternity house, so that’s a definite no.

So Harry ends up at the university’s coffee shop that resides just outside of the library. It usually has acoustic music playing in the background and comfortable chairs that make it a hotspot for uni students. Midterms are rapidly approaching and it seems that everyone has crammed themselves in the library, those who can’t find a seat or a table in there overflow to the coffee shop to get their caffeine fix. The line is lengthy when Harry walks in and he uses his long legs as an advantage to get ahead of the large group that just entered. 

As he waits, he mentally organizes his assignments, figures out which ones need to be done before midnight and the ones that are due Monday. He’s already getting stressed and he hasn’t even started yet. It was going to be a long weekend. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” A high pitched voiced asks him. 

Harry snaps his head up, he didn’t even realize he was at the front of the line. The first thing that pops into Harry’s mind is the boy behind the counter is painfully gorgeous: sharp cheekbones that lead up to bright blue eyes that are the bluest blue he’s seen, brown hair pushed to the side, one piece longer than the others that curls at the corner of his eyes, scruff accenting his jawline that Harry wouldn’t mind feeling against his skin. The second, Harry’s mind has completely gone blank and he blurts out “Pumpkin spice latte.”

The boy looks as if he’s biting back a laugh and nods. “What size?” 

“Um,” Harry cannot think of a size to save his life. What has become of his brain? Why won’t it work? “The erm, the lowest one, please.”

“Lowest one?” The boy questions, his head tilting to one side. “A small?”

Oh, great. The cute barista boy thinks Harry’s off his rocker. “Yes,” He sweeps a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I meant to say small but um, yeah.”

The barista laughs then and it sounds like wind chimes. He’s so lovely. “Name?”

“Harry.” At least he got that part correct. God help him if he got that wrong. He would have to transfer to another university if he embarrassed himself even more to this boy. 

The barista jots down his name on the coffee cup and sets it to the side before punching the order in the register. He recites the price to Harry and Harry hastily pulls out his wallet to hand over the appropriate amount. He steps to the side and waits for his order. He doesn’t even remember what he ordered. 

“Here you go.” The barista says to catch his attention. 

Harry is handed his drink and mutters a ‘thank you’ and high tails it away. That way there’s a less of a chance to embarrass himself further. He finds a table in the corner, his chair beside the window and facing the front of the shop. He must of subconsciously picked this table because if he peeks out of the corner of his eye, he can see the blue eyed barista working, scurrying behind the counter to fill orders, cracking jokes with those he must be familiar with, and mouthing the words to the songs.

He spreads his papers, books, and laptop across the table which completely covers the surface. He starts revising his paper and takes a sip of his drink. He’s met with a pungent processed pumpkin flavor and whipped cream. He wrinkles his nose and takes another sip, hoping it’s an acquired taste. Nope, he thinks, just as bad as the first. The artificial pumpkin has overpowered his taste buds and he smacks his lips together grimacing as he does so. He glances down at the offending drink and sees “Harold” written on it. 

That’s odd. He could have sworn he told the barista his name was Harry. He takes another sip and decides that he cannot finish this, however, he cannot get through all of his work without some sort of caffeine. But a pumpkin spice latte is not the way for him to get it.

He strolls across the coffee shop, throws away the drink, and gets back in line. While he waits, he actually looks up at the menu to decide what he really wants to drink.

“Back again Harold?” The barista asks.

When Harry glances down at him, he sees a small amused smile on the boy’s lips. “Yeah, erm I forgot how much I don’t like pumpkin spice lattes. My sister loves them and she constantly raves about them during the fall but I, erm, I don’t really like them. Don’t know why I ordered it, to be honest.” 

And now he’s rambling. Perfect.

“So what is it you really want then?” The boy’s tongue darts out to wet his lip and Harry’s brain short circuits. 

“Um, a dark roast? A medium dark roast? Please.” 

“Harold right?” The barista cheeks, marker already poised above the cup.

“Um, Harry. Just Harry not Harold.” Harry explains, biting his lip and trying not to think about how much he wants to snog the barista. He should probably get his name first, finish his work, get to know the boy, and then snog him. But snogging him is all he can think about. 

“Right, sorry about that.” He apologizes and rattles off the total once more. 

When their fingers touch while Harry’s handing over the money, he swears he sees a blush come across the barista’s face. He thinks he sees it again when he’s handed his coffee.

“Thanks.” He flashes the barista a wide grin and bites his lip again as he leaves. 

He goes back to his table, sits down, and dives head first into his pile of work. He mindlessly works, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he revises his paper. He flips through his notes and books for citations. Halfway through, he gets tired of moving his hair back from his face so, without taking his eyes off his screen, pulls his hair back into a bun. 

He feels the caffeine kick in and before he knows it, he’s out of coffee. Like most uni students, coffee is acting as fuel for him. He should probably eat something high in protein so he doesn’t starve but that would require leaving the coffee shop which he does not want to do. But since it’s getting late in the evening, something that slipped by Harry, he knows he needs to head back to the flat and finish his work there.

As he goes to drain the last bit of coffee, he sees “to Harrison from Louis x” written on the side. He feels his cheeks warm and a smile trying to take over his face. Instead of being upset that the barista- Louis- got his name wrong again, he rips off a piece of paper from his notebook and jots down his name and number. He hesitates before adding two kisses beside his name and rips it out of the notebook. He packs up all of his things and heads back to the counter.

Due to the late hour, the shop is leaning towards empty. Louis is leaning against the counter and typing away at his phone. “Erm, hi.” Harry calls out.

Louis’ head snaps up and a grin spreads across his face. “Hello again. Back for another coffee?”

“Nah,” Harry shakes his head. “Just heading out, but I wanted to give you this.” He slides the paper across the counter and backs away, winking at Louis before he turns and heads out of the coffee shop.

The second he steps out of the building he is appalled at his actions. Did he really just wink at the cute barista boy with the sharp cheekbones and ocean blue eyes? Harry groans internally and mentally notes to go back the shop tomorrow to apologize for such a wanker move. Or he can avoid the shop and pretend it never happened. Either would work.

When he arrives at his apartment, Roger is nowhere to be seen and Harry sighs gratefully. He quickly makes himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before going to his room and pulling his work out of his book bag once again. Somehow, he finishes most of his work by midnight and submits it to his professors. He falls into bed, skipping his shower, and checks his phone.

He has one new message from an unknown number and his heart skips a beat. Is it possible that Louis actually texted him? Even after the wanker move of winking and acting a fool when ordering?

When he opens the message, his heart sinks when it’s a reminder from his phone company that he’s used up seventy-five percent of his data for the month. He slumps down into his sheets and places his phone on his nightstand. 

-*-

Harry wakes up to his alarm the next morning at seven. He groans as he turns it off and rolls back into bed. His sheets are at the perfect temperature, warming his whole body, and he’s too comfortable to get up and shower and do what normal human beings should do in the mornings. He wants to be lazy and sleep all day and worry about his work later. Barely any light is coming through the curtains, meaning it must still be cold and rainy as it was yesterday. It’s the perfect weather to stay in bed and do nothing. But Harry has so much work to do that he forces himself out of bed and to the bathroom to shower.

He doesn’t bother putting anything else but boxers on before going back to his desk and continuing his work. His phone dings several times with text notifications but he ignores it. He has to get this work done. Once he does, he can go back to bed and sleep. About two hours later, his stomach is growling and how could he forget to eat breakfast? 

When he heads to the kitchen, he notices that Roger is still sleeping, loud snores coming from his room. He pulls out the carton of eggs and starts making scrambled eggs. He probably yawns about five times while he cooks which is just another reason why he should go back to bed. 

“Mornin bro!” He hears from behind him and he jumps.

Roger bursts out laughing at Harry’s reaction. “I thought you were still asleep.” He explains, turning back to the stove.

“Nah, just woke up. Are you making breakfast?” He asks, scratching his beard that’s grown out. Harry thinks he spies crumbs from a previous meal in there.

“Erm, yeah.”

“Mind making me some too? You know how terrible I am at cooking and it makes sense for you to make it since you’re already doing it.”

Harry fights to roll his eyes or make a snappy comeback about how eggs are that difficult to make. Or how he needs to learn how to take care of himself for once. It’s always the same excuse from Roger. But since Harry’s mum taught him to be nice to others, he only nods and asks how he wants them done.

“I’m feeling a boiled egg would be amazing. That alright? Thanks bro.” Roger doesn’t wait for Harry to respond before he heads out of the kitchen and to his room. 

Then music blasts through the room and only adds to the headache already brewing, the pain located near his temples. He’s praying it doesn't turn into a migraine. 

By the time Harry’s eaten and boiled Roger’s egg, his roommate is still in his room. He leaves it on a plate on the counter, cleans the dishes- which Roger never seems to have time to do- and heads back to his room to continue his work. 

When the music and his headache doesn’t stop, he buries his head in his hands. He’s going to have to go back to either the coffee shop or library in order to finish his work. He dresses in sweatpants and a sweater before packing all of his stuff into his book bag and grabs his umbrella. As he heads out of his room, he spots the boiled egg still sitting untouched on the counter and he’s boiling mad. He wants to throw the egg at his neglectful roommates door and yell at him to make his own damn breakfast. And to take out the trash once in a while. And to use headphones for once. And to not be awful and inconsiderate as he has been since the beginning of the semester. Randomized roommates never work out.

It’s absolutely pouring outside and the wind tugs at his umbrella, almost inverting it. By the time he reaches the library, Harry’s freezing, wet, and miserable. He should of stayed in bed. 

Unfortunately, all of the tables and chairs in the library’s three levels are full. He almost snagged a seat but an open laptop was resting in the seat with the note “I’ve gone to the bathroom! Do not take!” stuck to it.

He makes his way to the coffee shop and sees the table he used yesterday available. He makes a split second prayer that Louis’ not working today as he shifts his gaze to the counter. But luck isn’t on his side today it seems as he sees a sweater pawed Louis making coffee. Since he doesn’t need coffee at the moment, he keeps his head down as he makes his way to the table. He sits in the seat opposite of the one he used yesterday, hoping Louis doesn’t look over and sees him. He’s still highly embarrassed for winking as he left and stammering through his order. No wonder Louis didn’t text him. 

He headache worsens and moves behind his eye and soon the smell of coffee is making him nauseated. He breathes slowly and deeply so he doesn’t get sick. The words on his computer screen run together and the brightness makes his eyes ache. He tilts his head down, closes his eyes, and rubs at his temple, praying that this headache turned migraine will go away so he can finish his work.

“Hey,” A voice asks behind him. “Are you okay?”

When he turns around and squints in the light, he sees Louis standing there, concern on his face. “Just have a headache, is all.” He explains quietly. When did it get so loud on here? Did a huge group of students come in? But the people seated behind Louis are quietly working. 

“Are you sure? You look pale, mate.” Louis presses on. “Can I get you something to eat? A bagel or something?”

It’s obvious Louis’ trying to help but the thought of a bagel with cream cheese causes a wave of nausea to pulse through Harry. Then he’s out of his seat, knocking into Louis and barreling out of the coffee shop and to the bathroom to spill his guts out. His hands are shaking when he stops and he’s overcome with humiliation for running into Louis. It only gets worse when he steps out of the stall. Louis is standing there with wet paper towels and an understanding expression. 

“I’m so sorry for that.” Harry quickly apologizes and accepts the paper towels, wiping his mouth. He goes over to the sink and swishes water in his mouth. 

“Don’t worry about it. It happens to a lot of us.”

Harry turns around and leans against the sinks. “Has it happened to you?”

Louis pushes his hair back. “Eh, not from a migraine but from a hangover. You made it to the loo first.”

Harry grimaces. “You didn’t?” Louis shakes his head no. “Poor lad or… girl?” He prompts.

Louis laughs, the tension in the room dissipating. “Lad. Very smooth there Harry.”

Harry feels the side of his lips turn upwards. “So you do know my name then.” 

“Yeah,” Louis shifts his weight. “But I like Harold. Makes you sound proper.”

“Mate, I’ve humiliated myself in front of you for two days straight, I don’t think I’m proper at all.” He chuckles along with Louis.

“Yeah, but it was rather endearing, if I’m honest.” Louis blushes and Harry preens at his words. “I’m glad you weren’t upset that I kept on misspelling your name. Some guys I’ve tried that with got rather upset with me. S’why I didn’t text you.”

“I was too focused on trying to form correct sentences in front of you to really have a reaction to the name change.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

They grin at one another until the bathroom door opens with a bang and the moment is ruined. Louis steps out of the way of the guy, getting closer to Harry. “If you want a quieter place to work, you can come back to mine?” Louis offers, his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You sure?”

“Of course. Don’t want you to suffer in the coffee shop. I just finished my shift too, so I was heading back anyway to work.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, that’d be great. I appreciate it.”

Louis smiles brightly. “Anytime.”

-*- 

Louis had forgotten to bring an umbrella with him and Harry is more than happy to share his with him. They bump shoulders as they head to the parking garage where Louis’ car is located. Turns out, Louis’ flat is in the same complex as Liam and Zayn’s, only one building away. 

“I have a single, so you don’t have to worry about a roommate.” Louis explains as he unlocks the door.

“That must be great. My roommate is the worst.” Harry comments, taking in the space. A kitchen and breakfast bar to the left, living room with a large comfy looking couch and a television to the right, and a hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom directly in front.

“Did you know him before you moved in?” 

“No,” Harry drops his bag next to the breakfast bar and begins to pull his work out. “My mates roomed together and we couldn’t find a three bedroom at our price range. And my other mate is in a fraternity so he has a room in their house since he’s the president and all.”

Louis heads down the hall. “Random roommates never work out. All of my mates bailed on me and I had to get a flat for meself. Though I don’t mind it at all.” He comes back with a pill bottle in his hand. “I grew up with four sisters so having a bathroom all to meself is nice. Here, this should help you.” He hands Harry the bottle of pain relief pills.

“Thank you. Are you the oldest?” 

“Yeah,” Louis goes over to the kitchen and pulls out a piece of bread and popping it in the toaster. “Me mum just had twins a couple months ago and I got a brother and a sister out of it which is aces.”

“That’s impressive. Your mum must be superwoman.” Harry comments.

Louis laughs and places the toast on a plate and sets it in front of Harry. “She really is. Now eat this, you can’t take medicine on an empty stomach. It’s just gonna come back up.”

“M’not that hungry.” Harry explains.

Louis gives him an understanding look, expression soft. “I know but trust me yeah? Me mum’s a nurse and she would have my head if she found out I let someone take pain medicine on an empty stomach. So eat up darling.”

Harry blushes at the term of endearment and takes the toast, nibbling on it.

“Good lad.” Louis says, patting his shoulder and going back down the hallway. He comes back with his laptop and books and he plops himself beside of Harry at the breakfast bar.

They work silently side by side, the scribbling of pen on paper, the typing on a keyboard, and the swish of pages turning the only sounds in the room. Harry stops every once in awhile to nibble on the toast, grateful to Louis for making it and being considerate of his migraine. After he finishes half, he takes a pill. He sees Louis grin from the corner of his eye and he goes back to his work.

One paper and a half revised later, Louis turns to him, his knees bumping into the side of Harry’s thigh. “How are you feeling?”

Harry shifts his torso so he faces the boy. “A lot better, thank you. I really appreciate you being so kind to me.”

“Me mum always told me to take care of others, especially handsome boys with curly hair.” Louis explains, confidence in his voice and eyes firmly on Harry.

“Are you calling me handsome?”

Louis shakes his head. “No, just a curly headed lad. You did order a PSL yesterday.”

Harry feels his dimple pop out as he laughs. “I told you I was too flustered to correctly form sentences when I saw you.”

Louis giggles and shakes his head. “I had that big of an affect on you? I made you order a fake pumpkin drink that dozens of people only get to post on Instagram with weird filters and whatnot.”

“Yes you did. I blame you completely. I don’t see how my sister and my mate drink them. They’re so gross.”

“The whipped cream didn’t help any?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, not at all. What a waste of perfectly good whipped cream.”

They’re both grinning at one another like complete idiots and Harry wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s somehow managed to get into this drop dead gorgeous guy’s flat who he humiliated himself in front of multiple times and now they’re flirting. He almost has to thank his annoying roommate and migraine. Almost.

“Um, my mates are throwing a Halloween party tonight.” Harry begins, suddenly nervous and he fidgets in his seat. “I know it’s incredibly last minute but would you want to go with me?”

Louis’ smile drops off his face and a pinched look replaces it. “I was actually going to go to one of my mate’s party tonight. I’m really sorry. Raincheck?”

Harry nods trying not to feel too dejected. He did just ask him not even four hours before the party was going to start. “Yeah definitely. You’ve already got my number.”

Louis smiles softly. “Yeah, I’ll use it this time though.”

“Please do.”

They stare at one another before Harry coughs and checks his watch. “I erm should go, so I and you can get ready for our parties.” 

Harry can’t help but notice Louis’ expression grow dim at his words. “Yeah, want me to give you a ride?”

“Yeah, please. If it’s not too much trouble.” He rushes out.

Louis chuckles softly. “Of course not darling. Don’t want you getting sick in this rain, would I?”

“I suppose not.”

When Louis pulls up in front of the building Harry points out as his, he leans in and kisses Harry’s cheek softly. “See you around Harold.”

“That’s not my name.” Harry teases as he gets out of the car and rush to the safety of the building, rain still coming down in sheets.

-*-

“Why so serious?” A gruff voice asks, making Harry jump and almost spilling his drink.

But it’s only Liam dressed up as the joker from Batman and Harry can now restart his heart. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

Liam laughs as he hugs Harry. “Yeah, but it’s still fun. Who are you dressed up as?”

“I’m Patrick Verona.” When Liam stares blankly at him he elaborates. “From 10 Things I Hate About You? Heath Ledger?”

“Heath Ledger was in it?” Liam asks, perking up. 

“Yeah, it’s a rom com.”

“What the bloody hell is a rom com?” Liam’s face scrunches up in confusion, shifting his weight to lean against the door frame decorated in orange and black streamers.

Harry pats him on the back. “Don’t worry about it Liam, go find Sophia and win her over with a card trick, yeah?”

He goes off to the kitchen to get him another drink when he bumps into Niall dressed as an air pilot. 

“Haz!” Niall greets, drawing his name out. “How’ve you been?”

“Stressed like crazy but fairly good.” He grins. “What about you? Life as the president treating you well?”

Niall laughs, and grips Harry’s shoulder. “It’s fucking amazing mate. There’s an ensuite attached to my bedroom and it’s the best. I can go for a shit anytime I want.”

Harry bursts out laughing and hugs an obviously intoxicated Niall. “That’s great mate. I’m happy for you.”

“Oi! You there!” Niall hollers by Harry’s ear making him jump. Then Niall is off being his sociable self, finding a group of his fellow frat boys and chanting something before yelling a collect “yeaaaahhhh”. Harry doesn’t really understand the significance of it, but Niall’s happy so that’s all that matters.

He goes to the fridge and pulls out a beer before stepping back to let a guy dressed as a vampire slayer, evident with the fake severed head with fangs hanging from his belt, through. But he bumps into something warm and solid and a hand jots out to stabilize him by his wrist. 

“Oops.” He says, turning around to thank the person who just saved him from falling on his arse.

“Hi.” And it’s Louis smiling warmly at him, his face painted white with a black star covering his left eye and his right eyebrow accented with the black paint. A white shirt covered in the Batman symbol hugs his shoulders and black skinny jeans covers his lower half. And Harry is so bloody happy to see him, he can’t stop the smile that takes over his face and he feels his dimple sink in.

“I thought you were going to your mate’s party?” Harry asks, leaning in so Louis can hear him over the music.

“I am!” Louis shouts back, stepping closer, the arm holding up his beer brushes against Harry’s arm and he takes the opportunity to move it behind Louis and moves closer so that Louis is practically in the crook of his arm. “Niall invited me!”

Harry laughs. “Figures.” He mutters.

“What?” Louis asks, having to lean in closer which only makes it easier for Harry to see the blue in his eyes pop out due to the dark paint. 

“It figures that you’d know Niall. I’m pretty sure he’s mates with everyone on campus. Even the lunch ladies at the dining hall.”

Louis throws his head back, his back hitting Harry’s arm and he doesn’t move away from it. Harry counts it as a win. “Yeah, he probably knows them all by name and their spouse’s name.”

“You know,” Harry begins, shifting his weight to press his torso against Louis’ shoulder. “I’ve always thought that spouse isn’t used as often as it should. It’s much more proper than husband or wife.”

“I thought we already established that you aren’t proper, young Harold.” Louis smirks, teasing him. He takes a swig of his beer and Harry’s eyes lock onto his lips as he wraps them around the bottle and as Louis darts his tongue out to catch a wayward drop.

“Um, yeah I guess we did.” He manages to say, his eyes still on Louis’ lips. He sees them curl up and feels his beer he’d forgotten be pulled from his hand.

“Wanna dance?” 

Harry’s gaze snaps up to Louis’ eyes and nods.

Louis takes Harry by his hand and leads him through the crowd to the makeshift dance floor in the living room. This was Niall’s party as much as Liam and Zayn’s, Niall had pulled a couple strings to get a small fog machine- since dry ice and drunk uni kids are a dangerous mix- and high quality speakers. A Thriller remix is blasting through the speakers and Louis starts to move his hips to the beat as they walk. He pulls Harry behind him, using his hold on his hand to wrap Harry’s arm around his waist. Harry laces their fingers together and brings his free hand to press against Louis hip.

They move with the beat, eyes closed and relishing in their close proximity. Louis swivels his hips back into Harry and he has to bite back a groan. Instead, Harry tucks his head into the crook of Louis’ shoulder. Louis leans his head to the side, exposing his throat. The alcohol and the beat gives Harry the confidence to place a solitary kiss on Louis’ neck, waiting to see what the blue eyed boy’s reaction will be. When Louis’ free hand comes up to tangle in Harry’s hair, it encourages him to lick and bite at the skin.

“Fuck, Lou.” Harry groans in his ear and he swears he can hear Louis’ breath hitch when he licks over his bite, Louis’ rhythm faltering for just a moment.

Harry continues his actions, pressing his hips into Louis, and slipping the hand not entwined with Louis’ under his shirt his fingertips brushing along his smooth skin. Louis tugs on his hair and he bites down harder on his sink in retaliation.

Louis turns his face towards Harry, brushing his nose over his cheek searching for his lips. The kiss is gentle in contrast to the rest of their body’s actions. Harry’s heart soars and he connects their lips again. Small pecks lengthen until Louis runs his tongue across Harry’s lower lip. He opens his mouth letting Louis inside and his hips twitch forwards.

Louis leans back and squeezes their connects hands. He pecks Harry’s cheek before turning around and leading them off the dance floor, down the hallway and to the bathroom. Harry’s heart is pounding in his chest when he see’s Louis lock the door but gets confused when he starts rummaging in the cabinet.

“Um, what are you..” he trails off.

Louis smirks at him through the mirror. “Looking for make-up wipes to get this paint off of our faces.”

Harry then turns his gaze to his reflection to see white paint smudged across his cheek and around his lips. “Oh, oops.”

Louis chuckles and pulls a green container out with a “aha!” He pulls one out and turns around, reaching a hand up to hold Harry’s face still while he cleans the paint off with the other. “Thanks, love.” Harry whispers, his eyes locked onto Louis.

The boy smiles softly, fondly. “Anytime, darling.” 

When the wipe goes underneath his chin, he tucks it into his shoulder giggling. 

“What?” Louis asks, a laugh bubbling up.

“It tickles!” Harry confesses. 

They both giggle when Louis purposefully tries to brush the wipe underneath his chin again. 

“Stop it!” Harry shouts, ducking away from Louis’ mischievous hands but Louis jumps onto his back, attacking his face with the wipe. “Stop stop stop!” He can’t stop himself from giggling, the cold wipe tickling his skin and a Louis on his back.

“Alright fine. Take away my source of fun!” Louis surrenders and hops off of Harry’s back. He throws the dirty wipe away and reaches for another but Harry beats him to the package. 

He says nothing and jumps onto the counter, opening his legs to let Harry in the middle. He’s still giggling as Harry repeats his action.

“Piss off Harold. You’re suppose to be nice to your elders.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, moving to the jawline and revealing the tanned skin underneath the white paint. “You can’t be that much older than me.”

“I’m twenty-two, almost twenty-three.” 

“I’m twenty, going to be twenty-one in February.” Harry points out, raising his eyes to Louis’. “See, not that much older after all.”

“I can still pull the elder card though.” Louis protests. 

“Mmmhmm, okay.” Harry says with a grin and Louis mirrors it.

-*-

They end up going back to Louis’, the party getting a bit too much for the two of them. Niall pulls them into a group hug as they’re leaving, slurring their names together. “Larrrrryyy,” he drawls out. “I love both of you so much. You’re the bestest best friends I’ve ever had the pleasure of pleasuring with the delicious substance we call alcohol or poison. Yeah? Poison. That’s funny that is. God, I love you guys so much. We should go get those pancaky things. You know the ones Haz.” Harry can’t stop his laughter and Niall pokes him hard in the pec. “The flatter pancakes.”

“Crepes?” Harry offers.

“Yes!” Niall hollers, raising both of his hands up and accidentally hitting Louis in the back of his head with his beer bottle. “Crepers! We should go get them!”

“We will Niall.” Louis promises covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he laughs.

“Promise?”

“Have I ever broken a promise now?”

Niall seems to sober up a bit and tears appear at his eyes. “No,” he shakes his head rapidly. “You never do!” He then plows himself into Louis, his arms wrapping around Louis’ waist as he starts to cry.

Louis’ face is a mixture of amusement and complete shock. Harry gently pries the drunken Irishman away from Louis. “There there Niall. How about you go find Liam and tell him to get you some water, yeah?”

Niall stomps his foot like a five year old pitching a fit. “Ugh, fine.” And then he’s off, still stomping his feet.

Harry and Louis hold one another’s gaze for a split second before they’re busting out laughing as they head out of the flat. 

When they reach Louis’ flat, Louis immediately goes back to his bedroom and Harry hovers near the kitchen, not quite sure if he should follow. He knows they properly snogged and rutted up against one another on the dance floor, but it’s a different setting here. Louis could be taking a piss or getting something from his room. Harry doesn’t know. He has only known Louis for not even two whole days.

“Haz?” Louis asks, hovering near the end of the hall, sweat pants replacing the skinny jeans, a beanie covering his head, and a fuzzy blanket in his arms. “You okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course.” He crosses and uncrosses his arms, not quite sure what to do with them. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Louis motions his head towards the couch, an amused smile on his lips. “Let’s watch a movie, yeah?” 

They both settle on the couch and Harry purposefully sits right next to the armrest after Louis does the same. “Harry,” Louis deadpans. “I don’t have cooties you know.”

Harry looks over at him. “Yeah I know that. I just um,” he looks from Louis to the blank T.V. and back to Louis and shrugs. “I just like the armrest is all.”

He hears Louis sigh and the weight on the couch shift as Louis turns to face him. “Do you not want to be here?” he asks.

When Harry looks over at him, he sees Louis suddenly looking shy, his head down at the blanket, picking invisible threads off. “No, it’s not that.” He rushes out, resting his hand onto of Louis’. “I do want to be here, promise. I’m just not sure what to do here is all.”

Louis looks up and studies his expression before leaning forward. He hesitates, judging Harry’s reaction to his closeness before kissing him gently, a hand coming up to cup his cheek. Harry keeps his eyes closed when Louis pulls away. “We can sit here and watch the movie without doing anything or,” he brushes his thumb across Harry’s cheekbone and quickly glances down at Harry’s lips. “or we can pretend to watch a movie and snog or cuddle or whatever it is you feel comfortable doing.”

Harry releases a shaky sigh and nods his head. “Yes, to um the second one.”

Louis’ eyes brighten when he smiles and scoots closer to him, pulling the blanket to cover them. “Good choice.” He leans forward to press play on the movie. Harry doesn’t have long to figure out what exactly they’re watching before Louis takes his head in his hands and pulls him down for a kiss.

It’s wet, warm, and passionate. Harry brings his hands to wrap around Louis’ shoulders and waist, pulling him into his body. One of Louis’ hands drifts behind his head to tangle in his hair. He leans back and drags Harry with him. Harry struggles to keep himself up, not wanting to crush the boy underneath him, but Louis doesn’t stop until all of his weight is on top of him. 

“Who knew making a fool of myself in front of you would end up in me being here with you.” Harry comments, leaning up to catch his breath.

Louis smiles fondly, tucking a chunk of hair behind Harry’s ear. “Kiss me you fool.” 

They grin into the kiss and move together. Harry draws Louis’ hips upward, feeling him harden in his sweats. Louis whimpers at the pressure against his cock and breaks off the kiss to breathe hotly by Harry’s ear. “Fuck, Harry.” 

Harry doesn’t stop and moves down to Louis neck, finishing where he left off at the party. He licks over a particularly sensitive spot that makes Louis’ cock twitch. “Shit, I didn’t think I’d find biting so fucking hot.” 

Harry leans up, brushing their lips together. “Surprise!” he quietly sings and they both release breathy laughs into their mouths before connecting them once more.

Louis’ hands move down Harry’s shoulders, pushing open the button down shirt. Harry takes it off along with his undershirt and tosses the clothing somewhere, not caring where they land. Louis’ hands trace over Harry’s torso. “Your body Haz, ugh fuck.” Louis rambles. His hands run over Harry’s abs, his thumbs dig into his v-line, he trails his fingers over Harry’s four nipples. “You have four nipples.” Louis states.

“Yeah,” Harry says rather breathless, a bit overwhelmed with Louis’ hands running all over him. It’s making him even harder, his cock straining against his jeans making him uncomfortable. Harry unzips his pants and Louis’ eyes dart down to follow his actions. Louis’ hands come to rest on Harry’s hips as he haphazardly takes them off to leave him in black briefs. 

Louis leans forward to kiss along Harry’s collarbones as Harry, in turn, runs his hands down Louis back, pulling his t-shirt. Louis only disconnects himself long enough to get the material over his head, the beanie getting stuck in the shirt. Harry smoothes his hair out of the way and reconnects their lips. 

The blanket tangles their legs and locks them together. Louis runs his hands down the curve of Harry’s back to rest on his bum, pulling his hips into his own. They moan at the pressure and Harry takes Louis’ fluttering eyelashes and mouth open in pleasure as a sign to grind his hips harder. 

“Shit. Fuck me.” Louis groans, biting his lip.

“Yeah?” Harry asks, his hand cupping Louis’ cheek to focus him. “Want me to fuck you?”

Their eyes connect and Louis nods ever so slightly. “Yeah, please. Wanna feel you inside me.”

Harry nods and goes to sit up but because of the blanket he can’t balance himself and ends up falling off the couch, the blanket drags Louis down with him. “Ow! How the hell did that happen?” Louis winces as he rubs his head.

Harry looks over at a disgruntled Louis and chuckles. He sits up and starts to free themselves from the blanket while Louis looks on frustratedly. “The blanket is a mood ruiner.” He complains and snatches it from Harry’s hands to throw it on the couch.

Harry’s chuckles turn into laughter and he crawls over to Louis, pressing kisses from his neck to his chin and finally to his lips. “Don’t be mad at the blanket, love. It just wants a cuddle.”

“Yeah well,” Louis starts off, his fingers finding themselves back at Harry’s hips. “I want to get fucked.”

Harry feels his dimple pop out and he stands up, holding a hand out. “Let’s go then Mr. Grumbles.”

Louis moans and rolls his eyes as he lets Harry haul him up. “That nickname is not going to stick.”

Instead of walking towards the bedroom like a normal person would, Louis launches himself to land on Harry’s back causing him to stumble. “Onward Harold!” He points a hand to the bedroom and Harry giggles as he grips underneath Louis’ thighs and makes his way to the room.

The room is painted a light gray with a creamed colored duvet haphazardly laying across the bed which is pushed to one corner of the room. Harry doesn’t take the time to admire the paintings on the wall or the pile of dirty clothes at the foot of the bed, but plops Louis on the bed and quickly covers his body with his own. 

“Wait, wait.” Louis rushes out. “Get up.”

Harry freezes, thinking that he’s something wrong and hurries off the bed.

Louis doest the same but pulls the duvet off, smashes it into a ball, and placing it on the patterned arm chair in the corner. “Sorry,” he says, climbing back on the bed. “I kind of have a ‘no lube or cum’ rule for my duvet. It’s a bitch to wash.” 

And Harry shouldn’t be so endeared by a simple request but dammit he is. He is so so endeared with this boy. He goes back to the bed and picks up where he left off kissing every part of Louis that he can reach. Louis sighs appreciatively and guides them further up, his head coming to rest on the pillow. Harry trails his hands down Louis’ body, tugging his sweatpants off and scooting down to leave open mouthed kisses on his stomach. Sweet and salt explode on his taste buds and he nips and licks at the skin making his way down until he’s at the line of Louis’ boxers. He peels back the band of boxers and glances up, checking Louis’ reaction. When Louis looks down to see why Harry stopped he moves his head up and down slightly, giving Harry the go ahead. 

Harry pulls the material down and doesn’t try to hold back a groan when he sees Louis’ cock hard and leaking with precum resting on his stomach. Louis raises his hips as Harry tugs the last article of clothing off. He takes the length with one hand and darts his tongue out to taste him. Harry takes the head in his mouth when Louis places his hand in his hair, encouraging him to continue. Louis stutters out a whimper when Harry sucks him down as far as he can.

“You, oh fuck Harry, you don’t have a gag reflex.” Louis manages to get out. “So not fair.” He whispers out to himself and Harry preens under the praise, running his tongue underneath Louis’ cock.

He pulls off to answer. “Took a bit of practice.” His voice is already shot, raspy and Harry loves it.

Louis looks down, jealously glinting in his eyes. “Practice?”

Harry smirks and pumps his hand up and down Louis’ wet cock, using his thumb to apply pressure to the head. The smirk grows deeper when he sees Louis’ breathing pick up. “Just wait until you see me eat banana.”

“We’ll go get some later.” Louis promises, using his hand to guide Harry back down and he takes his cock back in his mouth appreciatively. He keeps up his pace, one hand pumping what he can’t fit into his mouth while his mouth sucks, licks and teases Louis. He doesn’t want to completely ruin his voice tonight, he’d much rather ruin Louis instead. He seems to be doing a good job of it since Louis starts to thrust his hips minutely forward and the grip in his hair gets stronger, Louis tugging out the strands hard that Harry knows will gives him a headache later. But he doesn’t care because he has the beautiful boy underneath him who’s starting to come undone at his ministrations. 

He removes his mouth in order to wet a finger. When he sinks back down, he traces his pointer finger down to Louis’ hole. Louis’ breath hitches at the feeling and he slaps a hand towards the bedside table. He manages to open the drawer and chuck a bottle at Harry, hitting him in the head and bouncing to the edge of the bed.

“Use this.”

Harry props himself on his elbows and reaches for the lube from where it landed and notices the label. Grape Flavored Lube. He giggles and squeezes some out onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the gel before rubbing a finger over Louis’ entrance. Grape fills his sense of smell and he grins hearing Louis moan gratefully. Once he deems he’s wet and relaxed enough, he slowly presses his pointer finger in, his eyes keeping steady on Louis’ expression, ready to pull at the first sign of discomfort. Louis looks down at Harry and bites his lip, his eyes shining with desire and pleasure. “Fuck yes Haz, gimme another.”

Harry kisses his hipbones and he follows the instruction. Louis sighs and pets at Harry’s hair gratefully. When Harry bends his fingers up and hits that one spot in Louis, Louis curls up slightly, his stomach tensing. “Oh fucking fuck yes Harry. There! Right fucking there.”

“Feels good Lou?” Harry questions, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear Louis’ breathy high-pitched voice again.

“Yeah, it feels incredible Harry.”

Harry moves his fingers away, not wanting Louis to come close to releasing, and he scissors them stretching Louis open. “I can’t wait to get inside you. Imagine how good it’s going to be then. To feel me splitting you open here. Feel your warmth and tightness around me. Fuck.”

Louis mewls at the thought and anticipation and Harry slides another finger in while he nips at Louis’ inner thigh. He sucks a bruise at the sensitive skin there licking over it when he’s finished, and Louis knocks the heel of his foot against Harry’s shoulder. “M’ ready. M’ready.” Louis states squirming against the sheets.

Harry kneels on the bed and takes in the boy. A blush has warmed Louis’ cheeks, his legs splayed open and bent at the knee, exposing him, hands griping the sheets at his side, and his stare firmly on Harry. He leans over Louis to the bedside table and draws out a condom taking his briefs off simultaneously. He makes quick work of opening the package and rolling it down his harden length. He takes a bit of the lube and spreads it over his cock and places a dollop over Louis’ entrance, making sure that the glide will be as smooth as possible for Louis, not wanting to hurt him in the slightest. 

He braces a hand by Louis’ head and grasps at the base of his cock. He uses the tip of his cock to brush over Louis’ entrance, spreading the lube around. Louis lifts his hands to Harry’s hair, guiding his head down to meet his lips. They keep their mouths close as Harry presses into Louis, the motion slow and smooth. They both groan at the new feeling and Harry rests inside of Louis. Nothing but warmth and tightness surrounding him. 

“Fuck Lou, you feel so damn good.” He slowly pulls out just the tiniest bit and rocks back in. “You feel perfect around me.”

“Yeah Harry. So big inside me, fill me up so fucking good. Uh fuck.” Louis mewls. “Move darling. You can move.” Louis pets at Harry’s hair reassuring him that he’s okay and to fucking move.

Harry pulls out, leaving the tip of his cock inside and slams in, moving Louis up the bed. “Oh fuck yeah.” Louis yells out, his legs coming up to circle around Harry’s waist, holding on as Harry plows into him, his thrust deep, sharp, and sending both of them towards complete bliss.

Louis reconnects their lips, biting into the kiss and breathing hotly into Harry’s mouth. their tongues sloppily coming together. Harry’s hand comes to grip Louis’ hip, keeping him in place as he slaps his hips against Louis’ ass. He tries to hold back his orgasm as the pressure surrounding him grows stronger.

“Fucking minx.” He mutters out when he realizes that Louis purposefully tightening his muscles to squeeze Harry’s cock.

“Surprise.” Louis pants, smiling as he sees Harry’s eyes close. He leans his head to the side and Harry dives down to take advantage of the exposed skin. He licks at the spot underneath Louis’ ear and he feels Louis’ cock twitch from where it’s trapped between their torsos. 

“M’ close Harry.” Louis gasps out, his eyes connecting with Harry’s and he sees Harry nods his head.

“Me too love. Come whenever. Come from just my cock.” Harry instructs, picking up his pace and slamming into the older lad. 

He feels his orgasm tingle at the base of his spine and he feels Louis’ muscles clench rhythmically as Louis comes. His cum spurting up and splattering over their stomachs. Harry rocks forward and stays inside as he comes into the condom. He stays there as they come down from their blissful highs. Louis’ hands staying in Harry’s hair, petting at the hair at the base of his neck while Harry rests his head in the crook of Louis’ neck, unable to stop himself from kissing the skin there every moment or so. 

“I’m really glad you embarrassed yourself.” Louis huffs out a laugh and kisses Harry’s forehead. He stretches his arms and legs before trailing his fingers over Harry’s shoulders and down his spine before repeating the motion.

Harry grins and leans up to press their lips together, the kiss soft and closed mouth. Harry pulls himself out of Louis slowly, noticing when Louis winces slightly. He ties the condom and tosses it in the bin next to the bed. Before he can turn around, he feels Louis’ arms wrap around his waist. He laughs and looks over his shoulder. “What’s this?” He asks as he settles into the mattress.

“Post-coitus cuddles. They’re mandatory. Sorry, no ifs, ands or buts.” Louis explains, his head resting against Harry’s shoulder blade. 

Harry hums as he pulls a blanket off of the floor and covers the two of them. He laces their fingers together and wiggles back until he’s comfortable. “Love a good cuddle.” He feels himself fall closer to sleep as his muscles relax, completely boneless.

“Good.” he hears Louis whisper, his voice sounding far away.

When Harry wakes up the next morning its due to the sun streaming in from the thin curtains. He turns his back to them and buries his face into something warm and hard. Arms wrap around his shoulders and pulls him closer as he hears unintelligible grumbles above him. He drifts back to sleep, warm and content.

The next time he wakes up, he feels lips and wetness against his forehead. He blearily looks up to see a sleeping Louis, their chests pressed together and his hands gripping Louis’ waist. They rise and fall with every breath Louis takes and Harry can’t help but feel so very lucky for walking into the coffee shop.

-*-

Unfortunately, Harry ends up rushing about the flat, picking up his clothing and leaving Louis with a deep kiss and a promise to call him once he’s finished his revising. He locks himself in his room and gets to work on the rest of his to-do list. 

He stays up for the whole night, being more productive then since Roger turns his music off and snores in its place. Harry doesn’t take the time to shower before going to class. He’s dressed in sweatpants, sweatshirt, and a beanie, unable to deal with his greasy hair. 

It’s not until he’s walking back home that he looks down and notices that he’s been wearing kitten slippers all day. He shrugs and doesn’t really care, only wanting to go to his room and pass out until he has to do it all over again tomorrow.

Only, there’s a sign at his door in Roger’s handwriting saying ‘do not disturb’ followed by a crude drawing of a penis ejaculating on a vagina. Roger is a classy lad. But Harry doesn’t care one bit. He strides into the flat and automatically hears the tell-tale signs of sex. But not coming from Roger’s room or the bathroom. Upon further investigation, he spies a trail of clothing going from the kitchen to his bedroom and Harry sees red as his sleep deprived mind puts two and two together.

He bursts through his door and sees Roger on top of a girl on his bed. On Harry’s fucking bed. “Get. The fuck. Out. Now.” Harry yells, annunciating his voice.

The girl screams and tries to cover herself. “What the fuck man? Did you not read the fucking sign? You fucking dickhead.”

Harry feels his blood boiling at this point as he stalks towards Roger and pulls him up. “I’m the dickhead? How the fuck am I the dickhead when you blast music twelve hours a day making it impossible for me to sleep or study half the time. Or how you never take the trash out? OR” Harry points to the girl curled up in his bed looking terrified. “Or how you’re fucking some girl in my bed when yours is just across the hall? So get the fuck out of my room and find yourself a new roommate. Dickhead.”

Roger cowards under Harry’s intense stare and grabs the girl by the hand and trips his way out of the room. 

Harry slams the door shut as soon as the leave and takes out his phone from his pocket. He’s trying to pace his breathing as he waits for the person to answer.

“Hey Haz.” Louis answers, his voice soft and soothing. “What’s up?”

“Can I live with you?” Harry blurts out and no, this is not what he meant to say. He meant to say hi. What is wrong with him?

“Um, I uh- what now?” Louis asks, flustered. 

“Can I er come live with you?” Harry repeats, grimacing with each word. “I just caught my roommate banging some girl in my bed and I haven’t slept since I was with you and I’m so fucking tired of his shit Lou.”

He holds his breath as he waits for Louis’ answer. “I’ll come pick you up in about twenty, yeah? With trash bags and disinfectant spray.”

Harry chokes out a laugh and nods even though he knows Louis can’t see him. “Yeah, thanks Lou.”

After he hangs up, he spends the next twenty minutes rushing around the room gathering as much stuff as he can to take to Louis’. His books and notebooks weigh his book bag down and he manages to stuff all of his clothes, scarfs included, into his extra large duffle bag. He’s notified of Louis’ presence in his flat when he hears a screech of ‘who the fuck are you?’ come from Roger.

His door opens and he sees Louis closing the door holding back a laugh. “What did you do?” Harry questions, already feeling more at ease with Louis there.

“Nothing,” he grins mischievously. “yet.”

Harry feels so relieved and walks over to greet Louis with a kiss. “Thank you so much for not freaking out and telling me no over the phone.”

Louis rubs at the base of Harry’s neck, kissing him again. “Of course. You’ve only talked about him twice and I can already tell he’s a fucking cunt.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up really.”

Louis holds out the box of trash bags. “I’ll do the honors of putting the tainted sheets in here. We can wash them when we get back to the flat. You can put the rest of your stuff in here.”

They go about to their separate tasks and Harry’s putting the last of his boots in a bag when he hears. “Seriously, why the fuck are you here?”

Harry looks over to the door. “Shut up Roger, ya shower of cunts.” A very Irish voice retaliates. 

Harry and Louis burst out laughing and Niall, with Zayn and Liam in tow, walk in Harry room. 

“What are you three doing here?” Harry asks, going over to hug his friends.

“I called in reinforcements to help move you out and into our flat.” Louis explains, his eyes fondly looking at Harry. 

Harry feels tears pricking at his eyes and he beams back at Louis. Louis returns the gesture by blowing him a kiss.

“Here catch Payno!” Louis shouts and tosses the bag with the tainted sheets at the unsuspecting boy.

“Oi, watch it!” Liam calls out, grimacing and holding the bag at arms length as he walks out of the room.

The four of them laugh and start taking bags out of the room and down to the road where Liam’s truck is waiting to head towards Louis, and now Harry’s flat. In the end, it just sort of happened.


End file.
